


The Sacrifice Play

by citrusfriend



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, a tony stark character study, just internal dialogue and an ambiguous setting lmao, set sometime after iron man 2, tony is not a narcissist stfu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusfriend/pseuds/citrusfriend
Summary: Starks are far from human. Starks are made of iron, so Tony Stark strides through the sea of cameras and yelled questions just as confidently as he would in his Iron Man suit. Because really, what is Tony Stark if he isn’t a suit?





	The Sacrifice Play

This is not a ritual that came naturally to Tony, not at first. Oh, the press claims otherwise, claims that he was a born narcissist, a born _sociopath_ , but he wasn’t made to fulfill a role in the spotlight. Tony was built for building, was born for _creating_. But regardless of his nature, the nature of survival overruled him. This mask is one that was sewn into his skin from harsh slaps from Howard and echoing silence from Maria. This is a mold that Jarvis could never manage to save him from, not with the world fighting against him. So Tony knows how to do this; he knows the song and dance of paparazzi and catering to the audience and he knows how to use it to his advantage. Howard had made certain of that.

So Tony falls into his old routine. He hides the hands that resemble Howard’s too closely in his pockets, because their trembling has always been his most obvious tell. He slides his sunglasses over his eyes and tilts his chin at the slightest angle, his blatant smirk twisting up on his face without the slightest thought. His back automatically finds the balance between professional and insolent and his shoulders follow.

This is the difference between _Tony_ and _Tony Stark_.

In times like these, _Tony_ lives in his hands. He stores himself in broad hand gestures and hidden shakes and the way his fingers curl around alcohol glasses. In times like these, Tony hides. He hides away from the memory of Howard, from the memory of Afghanistan, of the memory of rejection and betrayal.

But while _Tony_ sequesters himself away, _Tony Stark_ thrives. Tony Stark takes the memory of slaps, of yells, of burns, of betrayal, and wields them like a weapon. Tony Stark is far from his father’s puppet, but he’ll be damned if he lets the perfect façade that Howard gave him fade away. Because Tony Stark knows how he needs to behave--knows how he used to be, before he was able to separate his defense mechanism from his identity. These people don’t take to _change,_ not in _times like these,_ so Tony Stark plays to the people's expectations and Tony Stark behaves.

That is to say, he doesn’t. Because Tony Stark has never been expected to _behave_. No matter how much he bends to their expectations, their needs, they never see him as anything but selfish. Tony Stark doesn’t mind their expectations much; after all, if they could accept him as anything other than the narcissist he forces himself to be, then they would have to accept him as human. And Starks are far from human. Starks are made of _iron_ , so Tony Stark strides through the sea of cameras and yelled questions just as confidently as he would in his Iron Man suit. Because really, what is _Tony Stark_ if he isn’t a suit?

It bothers _Tony,_ though. It always has. But Tony is bothered bothered by most things, so he doesn’t pay it any mind. After all, the pieces of him that protest against Tony Stark are just the remnants of his childish needs, just the pieces of himself that he’s never allowed himself to acknowledge. Instead, Tony locks the echoes of a screaming child in the back of his mind and locks _himself_ into his shaking hands.

Because in times like these, no one wants Tony. No one has _ever_ wants Tony. They don’t really want Tony Stark either, he supposes, but they want to hate him, they _love_ to hate him, so he can make that sacrifice. He can keep the child who begs for external approval sequestered to the back of his skull and violent panic attacks. He can limit himself to living in his hands until he can let himself free in the confines of his Iron Man suit. He can let Tony Stark give them what they pretend not to need.

He knows he can do it. He knows he can let Tony Stark take the stage with a storm and drown Tony in alcohol to keep himself in line. He knows that being a ‘narcissistic sociopath who can’t play well with others’ is all he will ever be known for, genius, technology, and Iron Man be damned. This is not a ritual that came naturally to Tony, but he knows it intimately by now. He knows his fate. 

But _god,_  does he _hate_ it.


End file.
